


Growth Over Time

by ceasefire



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Introspection, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 22:52:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5473505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceasefire/pseuds/ceasefire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The statues, paintings and stories do not tell the whole truth of Sorey the Shepherd.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Growth Over Time

**Author's Note:**

> this fic made way more sense in my head but ahhh well, i can't expect much from myself when i'm trying to fend off the dreaded writer's block ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ i hope someone gets some enjoyment out of it either way

Sorey was not as strong as the grand statues in the temples and churches of Glenwood made him seem.

That was not to say that he was weak; Mikleo had watched him take down enemies ten times his height with nothing but his self-taught sword skills and the determination to do what was right by the blighted world, but nor was he the all-powerful figure that so many humans believed to be their saviour. Sorey was not seen as divine at first; it had started as respect and had evolved into reverence slowly, as time passed and human lives began and ended. It had been strange, the first time, to hear Sorey's names on the lips of the faithful, as if he could hear them while deep in sleep by Maotelus's side, reach from beyond where they rested and grace the people who begged for his help with some sort of divine intervention. Perhaps Sorey would have wanted to, if he was capable of such a thing.

But Sorey was not as strong as the people who knew him least believed, and Mikleo preferred it that way. He cherished the dearly-held memory of the childhood friend who used to be scared of the dark as a child, who once came running back to Gramps in tears because the Prickleboar he'd been hunting had headbutted him face-first into the dirt, who tried not to pout the first time Mikleo had managed to best him during one of their training fights.

He missed the Sorey who had fallen asleep in his arms, shaking with nerves after they'd retired to the inn on their final night in Lastonbell.

For Mikleo, that was the true Sorey.

 

 

Sorey was not as calm as the lavish paintings in Glenwood's churches and cathedrals made him seem.

Mikleo had first noticed one particular painting while visiting Ladylake to pay his respects at the church on the anniversary of Alisha's passing, had been trying to figure out just how long it had been since her life had faded when he saw it. It was Sorey, painted to look much older than seventeen years but easily recognizable. His eyes were shut, his Shepherd's cloak was billowing about his shoulders, and his gloved hand was clenched protectively over his heart. The light source that the artist had chosen to use made it seem as though the purest of warm, golden light was glowing brightly from beneath Sorey's fist, chasing away the shadows that played around the borders of the canvas.

It was the essence of calm, of quiet resilience in the face of dark times. And perhaps it was easier for people to believe that Sorey that always been that way from the moment he'd become Shepherd until his eyes had fallen shut and Maotelus had accepted him, but somehow the thought made Mikleo annoyed. Of course he missed Sorey's calming influence, but even more he missed the excited look on Sorey's face when they discovered new ruins, the way they'd debate when they disagreed on the origins of the objects found therein, the way Sorey would get far too over-excited at the sight of the goblin hellions and the weird vehicles they rode on. Sorey wasn't just a beacon of soothing light for the people to pray to when they needed to be consoled; he had been so bright, so passionate, that it had been hard for those around him to not share in that enthusiasm.

It had been that way the first time Sorey had kissed him; Mikleo had blushed, stuttered awkwardly and then gradually fallen into the way Sorey had smiled and laughed and held his hand.

It was selfish and irrational to be both annoyed by the way they saw Sorey and relieved that there were parts of him that would never be shared with others, but that was how Mikleo felt.

 

 

Sorey was not as pure as the scriptures made him seem.

That wasn't to say that Sorey wasn't the most pure human that Mikleo had ever known, because that would have been a lie; after leaving Elysia, that fact had only been made clearer. The corruption had been stifling, had made Mikleo feel like Sorey was the only safe space within a damaged, but not destroyed world. He'd see those who were so enamoured with the church and the Shepherds that they shouted their deeds from the corners of the busiest streets in the cities, demanded that people aspire to be like Sorey and live their lives pure and free of the malevolence that still existed, but was slowly fading.

More people could see the Seraphim now than ever before, but as much as he wanted to, Mikleo did not approach them. There was no point in arguing with those set in their ways when what they were doing was generally ignored and mostly harmless, but it still seemed ridiculous that they held Sorey up as an example of perfection when he, just like them, had been human. And to suffer and fall prey to imperfection were human; Sorey certainly had. The difference was that he knew when it was happening, and had the four of them and Rose to ground him.

Mikleo had felt it when Heldalf had tried to use Gramps against them, had felt Sorey's resolve strung tight and fraying strand by strand like a bowstring overused. After everything they'd seen on their journey, that had still been the hardest burden to shoulder and Mikleo wanted to tell people that he'd felt Sorey's pain and sorrow and doubt, and that if the Shepherd could feel that way then everyone could.

He could tell them that Sorey had had small moments of selfishness too, had sometimes taken time to indulge himself by exploring for longer than needed, or to spend just a little more time cuddled up close with Mikleo in the mornings while staying at any number of the inns they'd slept in during their journey. But those moments were for him alone, and so he kept quiet and moved on.

It still hurt a little to see them getting Sorey so wrong, but perhaps that was for Mikleo to know and for them to find out.

 

 

Sorey seemed a little overwhelmed by what he'd become to the people of Glenwood during his centuries of sleep, but Mikleo was there to help him.

He tilted his head and gave Mikleo a perplexed look as he read over the historical documents Mikleo had saved for him while he slept, slowly witnessing his own rise from Shepherd to Messiah to Legend in the text.

Mikleo smiled as he watched the emotions on Sorey's face change rapidly with every new thing he read, until he finally seemed to reach his limit and flopped onto his back on the floor with a disbelieving sigh.

“It's a lot to take in. Are you alright?” Mikleo asked, brushing an errant strand of hair behind his ear. Sorey nodded in return and let out a sigh that seemed to help with draining some of the tension from his body. 

“It's just kind of weird to read all this... especially all the things that are just exaggerations,” Sorey murmured, “Even if people hadn't remembered me, just humans and seraphim living together would have been enough. It would have been proof to me that we made our dream a reality. But this is almost too much.”

Sorey glanced up at Mikleo then, looking confused.

“I know it would be hard to keep records straight even with the help of the Seraphim, but did anyone try to correct them?”

Mikleo hummed, recalling his own inner turmoil at the inaccuracies from years ago. “I don't think I ever did.”

“Why not?”

Sorey didn't sound hurt, just curious.

“I don't know,” Mikleo admitted. “It was difficult at first, but...”

He sighed softly before he continued, glancing at Sorey with a smile.

“The world got better, regardless. Perhaps it helped the humans that you could be what they needed you to be. And... in a way, it was good to be one of the only people who knew the real you.”

The smile that he got in return was strong, calming and pure all rolled into one, and Mikleo couldn't help but lean over and meet it with his own lips.


End file.
